


The Update

by NB_Cecil



Series: October OTP Ficlets [17]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: AU, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, lighthouse au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 11:41:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16325540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NB_Cecil/pseuds/NB_Cecil
Summary: Lighthouse AU: when Data runs a major update and lies comatose for 72 hours to do so, Jean-Luc waits at his bedside for him to “wake up”. Heavy fluff.





	The Update

**Author's Note:**

> Written to this on repeat https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=uiy3qGCZZEc which is also the song mentioned in the fic, in case you want to listen to it whilst reading.

_This old house is falling down around my ears_

_I'm drowning in a river of my tears..._

 

At the sound of Data stirring, Jean-Luc leaps up from his chair at the small desk in their shared bedroom, abandoning the paper he’s been trying—and mostly failing—to edit whilst waiting anxiously for the Android to re-start after his annual major software update. He rushes over to the bed. The strains of Alison Krauss singing the Dimming of the Day, which have accompanied most of Jean-Luc’s 72 hour vigil still play softly on repeat from the speakers on his laptop.

 

_...When all my will is gone you hold me sway_

_I need you at the dimming of the day..._

 

Kneeling beside the bed, Jean-Luc reaches to cup his lover’s face as his motor and cognitive functions come back online. The Android blinks rapidly and muscles in his face and limbs twitch as his re-start sequence runs through its diagnostic tests.

 

_...You pulled me like the moon pulls on the tide_

_You know just where I keep my better side..._

 

Jean-Luc hates to see his husband like this, lying prone, in a semblance of death, for two or three days at a time while he installs the update he and his best friend Geordi work on throughout the preceding year. There was that one time, not long after they’d moved in together, when something went wrong and the programme got stuck in a loop, unable to move beyond testing the motor control in Data’s neck, causing the Android to jerk his head repeatedly. Time had slowed as Jean-Luc scrabbled frantically under his boyfriend’s shirt for the off switch located in the side of his torso and held it down for a full 10 seconds to kill the malfunctioning start-up sequence. He had phoned Geordi in a panic at 1am, who—without hesitation—had bought the backup (of Data’s entire memories and programming) the Android had entrusted to him by night bus across London, staying on the phone during the journey to talk Jean-Luc into calming down until the battery went flat.

 

_...What days have come to keep us far apart_

_A broken promise or a broken heart..._

 

“ _One two one two._ ” The startup programme tests Data’s speech circuits, then the Android blinks once more. Slowly, deliberately this time.

 

He smiles up at the archaeologist and Jean-Luc lets out a long breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

 

“Welcome back, D.” Jean-Luc strokes his husband’s face tenderly. “How are you feeling?”

 

“I am still running diagnostic tests on my neural net, but so far, I appear to be functioning within normal parameters.”

 

Jean-Luc giggles with relief and leans in to kiss his husband long, slow and soft on the mouth.

 

_...Now all the bonny birds have wheeled away_

_I need you at the dimming of the day..._

 

“I should let the others know,” He half rises, “They’re waiting downstairs.”

 

Data rests a hand on Jean-Luc’s arm and reaches for his phone on the nightstand. He sits up to type.

 

“I sent Geordi a WhatsApp. He will tell the others.” He replaces the phone.

 

“Ok. Well, I have a paper to finish—“ Jean-Luc moves to stand up again.

 

“Or,” Data interrupts, “You could join me here.” He stretches out on his back, opening his arms invitingly.

 

“It’s two o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon; I should be working.”

 

“Ordinarily yes,” Data concedes, “But your husband has been comatose for three days. An afternoon’s compassionate leave would be reasonable.”

 

_...Come the night you're only what I want_

_Come the night you could be my confidant..._

 

Jean-Luc frowns, weighing up his choices.

 

“The journal’s submission deadline is this Thursday.” He chews his bottom lip.

 

“So, you will be on your fourth or fifth edit by now, surely?”

 

“Fifth, yes.”

 

“Then finish it tomorrow.” Data suggests. “I know you are trying to put on a brave face for my sake, but Geordi has informed me you can be quite the nervous wreck when I am installing my annual update.”

 

“Yes.” Jean-Luc concedes, climbing onto the bed and flopping onto his husband’s chest. “It does make me anxious.”

 

_...I see you on the street in company_

_Why don't you come and ease your mind with me..._

 

Data folds his arms around his spouse, kissing his face.

 

“It is good to be back, “ He observes, “Did I miss anything?”

 

“Alexander broke the teapot yesterday and Beverley’s talking about a trip to Noss next week. Something about puffin populations...” He trails off. “...It’s not really my area...”

 

“Ah, yes. That would provide useful comparative data to the population here...” The Android’s speech stops at the sight of his husband, head propped up on one elbow now, gazing down at him, eyes wet. “Do you need to have a cry, Jean-Luc?” He asks softly.

 

“I think I do, yes.” Jean-Luc’s voice catches and he rolls into a foetal position on the bed, his back to Data.

 

_...I'm living for the night we steal away_

_I need you at the dimming of the day..._

 

“I am here and I am ok.” Data reassures him, moving onto his side to wrap an arm tightly round the sobbing man.

 

“But what if—what if it had gone wrong this time?”

 

“Then Geordi would have helped you reinstall my backup.”

 

“But what if that didn’t work?”

 

“That is unlikely.”

 

“But what _if_...?” Jean-Luc insists.

 

“We would go to an older backup. I make them every month.”

 

“I know, but—” Jean-Luc heaves a great sob “—I don’t want to lose you. I love you too much.”

 

“I know.” Data kisses the back of his neck. “The probability of your fears coming to pass is lower than zero-point-zero-zero-three percent, but that does not make those fears any less real.” He lifts his leg and rests it on top of Jean-Luc’s thigh, pressing their bodies together. “Please, take all the time you need to process your emotions. I am not going anywhere.”

 

Jean-Luc wails and curls tighter in on himself, unable to put his appreciation into words. Data sighs, stroking the short grey hairs at the base of his husband’s skull; he doesn’t need to hear it to understand Jean-Luc‘s gratitude.

 

_...I need you at the dimming of the day._

**Author's Note:**

> October OTP fics day 17: “spooning”.


End file.
